Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels


Your search returned 268 results




marriage status

class status


mode of speech

"but what is your difficulty?"
"So strange! for Mrs. Grant never used to ask her."
"Nothing can be more natural,"
"nor, were there no sister in the case, could anything, in my opinion, be more natural. Mrs. Grant's shewing civility to Miss Price, to Lady Bertram's niece, could never want explanation. The only surprise I can feel is, that this should be the first time of its being paid. Fanny was perfectly right in giving only a conditional answer. She appears to feel as she ought. But as I conclude that she must wish to go, since all young people like to be together, I can see no reason why she should be denied the indulgence."
"But can I do without her, Sir Thomas?"
"Indeed I think you may."
"She always makes tea, you know, when my sister is not here."
"Your sister, perhaps, may be prevailed on to spend the day with us, and I shall certainly be at home."
"Very well, then, Fanny may go, Edmund."
"Fanny, at what time would you have the carriage come round?"
"My niece walk to a dinner engagement at this time of the year! Will twenty minutes after four suit you?"
"Dear me! how disagreeable! I wonder anybody can ever go to sea."
"What shall I do, Sir Thomas? Whist and speculation; which will amuse me most?"
"Very well,"
"then speculation, if you please, Mrs. Grant. I know nothing about it, but Fanny must teach me."
"Oh dear, yes! very entertaining indeed. A very odd game. I do not know what it is all about. I am never to see my cards; and Mr. Crawford does all the rest."
"I do not advise your going to Brighton, William, as I trust you may soon have more convenient opportunities of meeting; but my daughters would be happy to see their cousins anywhere; and you will find Mr. Rushworth most sincerely disposed to regard all the connexions of our family as his own."
"It is the only way, sir, in which I could not wish you established as a permanent neighbour; but I hope, and believe, that Edmund will occupy his own house at Thornton Lacey. Edmund, am I saying too much?"
"We shall be the losers,"
"His going, though only eight miles, will be an unwelcome contraction of our family circle; but I should have been deeply mortified if any son of mine could reconcile himself to doing less. It is perfectly natural that you should not have thought much on the subject, Mr. Crawford. But a parish has wants and claims which can be known only by a clergyman constantly resident, and which no proxy can be capable of satisfying to the same extent. Edmund might, in the common phrase, do the duty of Thornton, that is, he might read prayers and preach, without giving up Mansfield Park: he might ride over every Sunday, to a house nominally inhabited, and go through divine service; he might be the clergyman of Thornton Lacey every seventh day, for three or four hours, if that would content him. But it will not. He knows that human nature needs more lessons than a weekly sermon can convey; and that if he does not live among his parishioners, and prove himself, by constant attention, their well-wisher and friend, he does very little either for their good or his own."
"I repeat again,"
"that Thornton Lacey is the only house in the neighbourhood in which I should not be happy to wait on Mr. Crawford as occupier."
"I do not like, William, that you should leave Northamptonshire without this indulgence. It would give me pleasure to see you both dance. You spoke of the balls at Northampton. Your cousins have occasionally attended them; but they would not altogether suit us now. The fatigue would be too much for your aunt. I believe we must not think of a Northampton ball. A dance at home would be more eligible; and if—"
"My daughters,"
"have their pleasures at Brighton, and I hope are very happy; but the dance which I think of giving at Mansfield will be for their cousins. Could we be all assembled, our satisfaction would undoubtedly be more complete, but the absence of some is not to debar the others of amusement."
"that she was not at all afraid of the trouble; indeed, she could not imagine there would be any."
"she looks very well. I sent Chapman to her."
"It must be so, my dear,"
"Yes, she does look very well,"
"Chapman helped her to dress. I sent Chapman to her."
"So soon! my good friend,"
"it is three o'clock, and your sister is not used to these sort of hours."
"What! Did she think of being up before you set off?"
"You had better not. He is to have breakfasted and be gone by half-past nine. Mr. Crawford, I think you call for him at half-past nine?"
"She could not recollect what it was that she had heard about one of the Miss Maddoxes, or what it was that Lady Prescott had noticed in Fanny: she was not sure whether Colonel Harrison had been talking of Mr. Crawford or of William when he said he was the finest young man in the room— somebody had whispered something to her; she had forgot to ask Sir Thomas what it could be."
"Yes, yes; very well; did you? did he? I did not see that; I should not know one from the other."
"I cannot think what is the matter with me,"
"I feel quite stupid. It must be sitting up so late last night. Fanny, you must do something to keep me awake. I cannot work. Fetch the cards; I feel so very stupid."
"We miss our two young men,"
"And there is no reason to suppose,"
"but that his visits to us may now be tolerably frequent. As to Edmund, we must learn to do without him. This will be the last winter of his belonging to us, as he has done."
"but I wish he was not going away. They are all going away, I think. I wish they would stay at home."
"Sir Thomas, I have been thinking— and I am very glad we took Fanny as we did, for now the others are away we feel the good of it."
"Very true. We shew Fanny what a good girl we think her by praising her to her face, she is now a very valuable companion. If we have been kind to her, she is now quite as necessary to us."
"and it is a comfort to think that we shall always have her."